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mantistog · 4 years

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Uneasy

Yandere! WIll Graham x reader x Yandere! Hannibal Lecter

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You had stated it many times to WIll, him in no way heeding your warnings. It wasn’t that you particularly hated or even disliked Dr. Lecter. But you always felt so discomforted in his presence. Where as you and Will rarely shared eye contact, it seemed Dr. Lecter was too fond of it. Or too fond of looking at you in general- you didn’t like the attention that you felt having someone's eyes linger on you for too long. You had told Jack exactly the same thing, when he first brought the man into the station. Nobody seemed to take you seriously though, Alana even telling you that you should put your personal dislike for Hannibal aside and be happy someone would be there for Will.

You couldn’t blame her, she had a personal and professional relationship with the man that obviously made her harbour serious respect. Maybe that’s why everyone loves him, cause they see his brilliance in his field and instantly bestow him with respect unfounded. In moments such as these in your life, you are happy that you don’t understand half of the professional things that him and Alana engage in.

You sighed, bringing your fist up to the wooden door, knocking quietly and maybe hoping that no one would hear so you wouldn’t have to do this. But to your dismay the door was opened rather quickly, and if it hadn’t Will would have simply forced you to knock again. “Ah, we’ve been waiting for you. Please, come in.” The psychiatrists gentle tone and gentleman like demeanor never failed to make you annoyed. Yet you simply thanked him, handing your coat over for it to be hanged. The house was extravagant, too much so for your tastes. Too big, too expensive. Everything about Dr. Lecter and his house screamed self importance. Narcissism. You preferred the humbleness of you or Wills small house. He greeted Dr. Lecter as if they were friends, shaking his hand timidly as he instructed you into the dinning room.

At the table already sat were Jack Crawford and his wife, Bella. You were well acquainted with both, and you were happy they were there so you wouldn’t have to suffer alone with Will and Dr. Lecter. It was the only reason you had decided to accept the invitation that was extended through Will onto you on behalf of Dr. Lecter. As much as you loved Will, his and his therapists relationship was hard to get an angle on and quite frankly you found it unpleasant to be around the two at the same time. It was almost like he brought out the worst in Will.

Tonight was worse than normal, too. They seemed to share knowing glances and hushed whispers as Dr. Lecter handed out everyone's plates. Their relationship had always fluctuated, but you had never watched them scheme the way they were right now. The dinner was pleasant, as you discussed ongoing and current events with Bella, heavily preferring her and Jacks company over the company of that of Will and Dr. Lecter with their sudden agreement. It almost made you grit your teeth in annoyance. At least a couple of weeks ago Will would have never found Dr. Lecter as agreeable as he suddenly did. It was suspicious, you could just tell something was off, the same way you knew from the beginning that Dr. Lecter was different than he seemed.

The night ended off swimmingly, surprisingly no reveal of the secret that the two were apparently keeping as Jack and Bella made their leave. “We should get going too, right Will?” You urged, trying not to be rude as you tried to separate yourself and Will from Dr. Lecter. He smiled, putting a hand on your shoulder warmly. It was weird to see him physical with anyone, so it instantly ticked you off that something was indeed wrong. You shrugged his hand off, taking a step back awkwardly. His and your eyes met accidentally for once, and he was looking at you so softly and warmly, a almost unnoticeable smile on his face. But you noticed.

“We should get home, shouldn’t we? It’s getting late.” He answered you, grabbing your hand and leading you to the door. You thanked Dr. Lecter for the dinner out of courtesy, but he simply replied ominously that he would see you again soon. There was nothing you could really do other than shoot him a look of suspicion before you and Will get into his car and you watched him study you both as you drove away. You felt suddenly very sleepy as you were sitting down again as Will drove, and you didn’t think anything of it as you fell asleep, trusting Will to get you home safely as he always did.

That’s why when you woke up in an unknown environment you were nothing short of first surprised, scared and then angry. Absolutely livid, to be frank, as you realized with the pounding headache that you had probably been drugged- you knew the feeling well enough to establish the connection in your mind between previous experiences and this one. The room, bed and sheets were all nicer than your own. The walls seemed to be made mostly of planks, wood and logs, aiming to confirm your suspicion you looked out the window and was greeted with woods. You were in a fancy cabin of some kind in the middle of nowhere, or at least a ways from any other house. Bundling the sheets up in your first, you quickly disposed of them from the bed and launching them onto the floor carelessly. Your white shirt was the same as the one you had worn to the dinner party, but you couldn’t help but notice your lack of pants and wonder just who removed them. At least the dress shirt was long, when not accurately shoved down into your pants.

You got up quietly, noting that you could faintly smell something cooking, but it was hard to tell with the window slightly cracked open, letting the petrichor in from the outside. There were two doors leading out from the room, but one was cracked slightly open and showed you a bathroom. You were in the master bedroom then. That must mean it was a sizable cabin. Only one person who could afford this who had any business with you came to mind and your face quickly soured. The other door stood there ominously, and you had to gather some courage to approach. It didn’t creak as you pulled it open slowly, peering through the crack of the door as it became bigger. The layout was as you’d imagined it, the door not leading to a hall but instead straight into a living room. Sitting in the couch situated in the middle of the room is Will, and before you can stop your brain from acting on it’s visual input your hand pushes the door open fully and Will instantly turn his head to look at you. At first there is shock on his face, but then it’s replaced with a small sincere smile.

“Good morning, how did you sleep?” He asks, his eyes remaining on you completely as he puts down a book you didn’t even realize he had been holding. He looks so smart with those glasses half way down his nose and a book next to him. Still, his calmness at the situation blows your lid off. He knows you have a short temper, why is he testing you? You can tell he notices your face turn downwards again, your eyebrows pressing further together in frustration. “Will, where are we?” It was more a demand, than a question.

“Home.” He said, suddenly as stone cold as you were. He was mimicking your loss of patience. You felt like a child that was being scolded by their parents. Yet your face didn’t waver. “No, Will. Where is my phone and my pants? I have work.” The words were slow and steady, as he got up. Something told you that you were in danger. You’d never felt scared of Will before this. “You’re not going in anymore.” He simply answered, stepping closer and causing the response in you to go backwards too. Don’t let him close the distance, you told yourself despite not being certain what he wanted. If he was gonna kill you he would’ve done it while you were asleep.

Your back hit the wall, yet he continues to advance on you until he’s right in front of you. “Will-” He cuts you off by grabbing your face into his hands, pulling you closer and studying your face. You doubt your facade of only anger keeps your fear and uncertainty hidden from him, yet you refuse to drop it. He moves your head around a bit and his breath fans your face, and you don’t know what to do with yourself except blush as he closed his eyes and connected his forehead to yours. His breathing was heavier than it normally was as his nose flirted with yours, his face lowering and your lips coming closer-

“Breakfast is ready.” You blood ran cold, and your heart stopped for a quick second, almost giving you a mini heart attack. Will pulled back fast, giving you an exhausted look quickly before turning around and addressing Dr. Lecter. “Yes, thank you.” He said thankfully, but by the look in Dr. Lecters eyes you knew that he knew what he had just interrupted. For once, maybe, you were thankful genuinely for Dr. Lecter. Will grabbed your hand, heading towards a door opposite where you came from, but Dr. Lecter instructs him to please go get pants. You assume those would be for you, considering the circumstance.

At this point pants are of no importance as you’re being led into the beautiful dining room, just itching for at least any answers as to where you are and why. You decide that if you want any answers from the psychiatrist you’re gonna have to be a bit more polite than you were with Will. Dr. Lecter pulls in your chair for you as you sit down, but he lingers behind you for a bit, smelling you before he too sits down. Another thing that made you uneasy about him, the way his sense of smell worked. You’re sitting at the end of the table, Dr. Lecter at your right and what you assume to be Wills seat on your left.

“Dr. Lecter-” you start to ask, but he cuts you off eagerly urging you to call him Hannibal as he has done many times before. You never listened, but right now you would as you assumed your politeness would benefit your cause. “Hannibal-” He nods at your correction. “Where am I?” You ask, trying to maintain eye contact with him. Laying on the table unsuspectingly, your hand is suddenly gently grasped by his hand being played atop yours. He looks at you in a way so soft you want to melt. “Do not worry, love. Me and Will plan to take good care of you.” And then it’s gone. Now he makes you feel uneasy again, treating you like an ignorant little child, as he addresses you. Will, comes in and sits down, eyeing Hannibal as he grabs your other hand. You pull both your hands to yourself quickly, frustrated with their none answers, throwing your hands in your lap. “Why am I here?”

They both share a weird look and then they smile in unison, freaking you out. Hannibal reaches out to you and grabs your hands in your lap and bringing them to his face, kissing your knuckles while Will simply smiles at you content to watch Hannibal touch you.

“Isn’t it obvious? We love you.”

#Yandere! will graham #will graham x reader #hannibal x reader #Hannibal lecter x reader #Yandere hannibal lecter #yandere hannibal #yandere x reader

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bumbershots · 3 years

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A CERTAIN ROMANCE

CHAPTER TWO: MONDAY THROUGH FRIDAY

Author’s note: Hello! Thanks a lot to everyone for reading this, I’m over the moon with the messages you sent after posting the first chapter. Keep them coming, and enjoy! ~ Alex

Story Masterlist ** Word count 2.3K **

If she was prettier and a bit smarter. If she were special, like the Instagram models that Teen Vogue features in their cover nowadays. She would have the guts to take three steps towards him and ask if he is who she thinks he is.

Harry is standing once again across from her, and she doesn't even know that he is wearing his beloved woolly jumper that has a picture of the planet Saturn on it, just for her. The girl wonders if they've heard of Styles on that planet, too. Of course they have, she scolds herself looking away from him at last, not believing her luck. For the third time on a Thursday, at half past three, he's jumping in the train right after her. The first time could've been luck, second one was a lovely coincidence but a third time? It's a charm. That's what her grandma would say.

But she isn't brave enough to walk up to him, not because of who he is, but the pressure and build up around the entire situation. What if he's a dickhead? She frowns at the thought, knowing it can't be true, not when his eyes, the so-called windows of the soul, are that nice.

They're both in a corner of the train this time, conversations start to sputter around as people try to keep their own talk ticking along on autopilot. He seems to be busy, reading Keith Richards' autobiography, she wants to talk to him about it, it's been a while since she read it though she still remembers it clear as day. The next one is his stop, she sighs in defeat at her own cowardly nature and takes out her mobile only to look busy.

Harry wants to talk to her, this is the third Thursday in a row, he's afraid there won't be a fourth one. He's back from his last meeting with Jack and Fernando, everything is set to start the renovation. He won't be taking this route anymore, it's now or never. But it's harder than he thought, to approach her and that's it, he doesn't know what he's supposed to do once he stands before her.

The speaker announces his stop, but instead of leaning away from the wall and walking out of the train, he flips the page of his book, letting the doors close and stays on the carriage for the next station. He is so nervous, a bit scared of his bold choice to stay on the line without a well defined plan. He's never been this nervous about talking to someone, the butterflies on his tummy at the mere sight of her are restless. Maybe if he scoots closer, little by little, he can nudge her side and mouth her a polite "hello," a warm smile afterwards so she doesn't think it's a come on. Except it is.

Harry closes his book, deciding that it's stupid and honesty is the best way to anything. He will just greet her and ask if he can buy her a cup of coffee someday, easy, breezy like Jack says. His green eyes follow her out of the train, they just reach Colindale station, before he can process what is going on or even move, the doors close and the vehicle is moving back to the tunnel. Away from her and his last chance. His mouth is dry and it's like he stuffed it to the brim with cotton.

He got off on Burnt Oak and switched direction, he was so mad at himself, the deep frown on his face said it all. This was supposed to be his chick flick moment and he ruined it by not doing anything at all. He keeps his face glued to the door closest to him, waiting for her to come up and smile at him in that knowing way. Perhaps then he would stand tall, mention that cup of coffee after introductions are made and she will agree. But she doesn't come back on the next station, or the three following ones. Harry gets off the train with a cloud looming above him, the wind is blowing in that nasty way that announces a storm following suit. The singer hurries to his home, trying to beat it.

The rain comes out of nowhere in full force just as Harry walks through his front gate, dashing to the inside of his house. He decides to fix himself a light lunch to keep his mind from wondering if she made it to her destination before the rain caught up with her. A text message from Jack does the trick, he sent him the address for Freddie's birthday. Harry can't believe that's tonight.

"Hello stranger," Gemma's voice greets the musician after the second ring. "All right?"

"All right, just forgot about plans I had for the evening," he hated to cancel dinner with his sister, "come with me?" Harry's tone is hopeful, she can almost picture his adorable cherub face, eyes sparkling.

"Is it with your teenage friends?" He hums trying to come up with a lie, "Harry we can have our dinner tomorrow night instead, I don't mind." As much as she loves her brother, that doesn't extend to that certain group of acquaintances.

"They're not that bad!"

"Baby brother, have fun with the lads, I'll see you tomorrow, pick me up at eight o'clock." She states before ending the call. Harry huffs before finishing his veggie wrap and jumps in the shower.

Perhaps he should've told Gemma that his mood tonight wasn't the best, that although he wanted to go out and about, he didn't want to do it alone. But her reasons to avoid his less mature group of mates are valid so he grabs his parka and his phone and, a little stooped, heads for the flat where the party is held.

A few years ago, he set himself three tasks: prioritise friends, learn how to be an adult, achieve a proper balance between the big and the small. Harry genuinely loves the fittings of his outfits before tour, playing his music for thousands. But he realised, as well, that the coolest things are not always the cool things. Tonight he's hearing anecdotes of how his friends sold almost everything they owned, to be able to afford a trip to the World Cup in Russia the year before. He knows that England almost made it to the final, but to see the agony and pain reflected on Freddie's eyes as he tells the story is truly humbling and heartbreaking.

"They had to escort me out, an hour after the match ended." The birthday lad finishes with glossy eyes. "I've never felt so powerless in my life, the world just seemed so unfair from then on, you know?" Harry doesn't, but he nods and finishes his drink. "But enough about good old me, what about you?"

"Same old, touring for a while, back in British soil before I take off again." He doesn't like giving rehearsed answers to his friends, but they're surrounded by at least a dozen people carrying out their own conversations while straining to hear what Styles says.

"Thinking about the next album already?" His friend's amazement is genuine, "can't believe what you'll hit me with next!" Freddie was his rocker friend. The one with an expensive vinyl collection, the one to never miss a Rolling Stones show, the one that religiously attended Glastonbury every year. Remembering this, Harry relaxed and decided to share with him a topic that left him vulnerable.

"You can expect a lot of break up songs that's for sure," he tries to joke but Freddie's smile falters a bit.

"How long has it been?"

"It'll be a year next month." He can't believe it still feels so recent and not at the same time. "I'm getting used to it." Freddie sighs and nods in understanding.

"I'm sorry you have to go through a shit thing like that, you're one of the good ones H," the green eyed musician is blushing, waving his hand at his companion in an attempt to dismiss his words. "It's the truth I mean... look around us, Jack has been on and off with Alexis for years," the two men observe the couple they're discussing, nothing seems wrong with them but Freddie's words are true, Jack has a habit of calling it quits with the redhead once she brings up marriage. "Kiera and Mosas cheat on each other all the time, we're not even sure if they're still together at this point... last but not least you have Alf, Christophe, Ruben and myself, four emotionally unavailable men who can't commit because they can't get their shit together." Silence takes over the two friends, it's deafening even though the background music can be heard loud and clear.

"I made some shitty decisions too, that's what drove her away," Harry wants to continue, the tequila shots seemed to have loosened his tongue.

"No, no, no you listen to me," Freddie's hands hold his younger friend's face carefully. "I know you're not a dishonest scummy man, you're allowed to make mistakes in a relationship and learn from them... don't be like Alf," he lets Harry's face go and nods towards the tallest guy in the room, "he had a brief relationship with a Portuguese girl, charmed her socks off and when she planned to move here guess what he did?"

"What?" Harry knew the answer, but he wanted to give his friend the benefit of the doubt.

"He cuts her off! Ghosting is what they call it nowadays. Just like that... and you think he learned, except that he doesn't!" His friend is now sounding too frustrated. "I saw him do the same thing to Al, perhaps it was a bit different she already lived here but she wanted more and just—" he can't finish his thought and Harry feels for his friend. "We all do that, it's a trend."

"Must be something in the water." The curly one tries to joke and he earns a soft smile from the birthday guy, along with a heartwarming hug. "You can always ring me Freddie, to chat and if I'm home see each other." Harry knows this is something new in their friendship, but he feels it necessary, after so many years of knowing each other. He can tell that Freddie is trying to find his way into adulthood, something that Harry had to experience at a much younger age due to his career.

"Thanks mate, I would really like that." Harry is about to ask Freddie about his family's well-being when a figure entering the room caught his eye, she was wearing the burgundy coat like that first Thursday he was lucky enough to lay eyes on her, high-waisted trousers. The newsboy cap was missing though, but he was glad because it gave her curly hair the freedom it lacked before.

Of all the places where he thought they might meet again, his friend's birthday party was certainly not on the list. She was here, greeting Jack and the others, pulling her sleeve to show how uncomfortable she was at making small talk with Alexis and Keira. She has to crane her neck up a bit when talking to, well pretty much anyone in the room.

This is the miracle he's been waiting for, he thinks just as the song changes to The Beach Boys' and a small smirk threatens to expand on Harry's lips, he does want to ask her if she wants to dance like the sixties tune suggested.

"Harry it's nice to see you again!" Fernando stands in the way blocking the view between the musician and the tube girl. He cringes a bit at the nickname and makes a mental note to learn her name, the sooner the better.

"Fer, I have missed you since we last saw each other earlier today," the architect laughs and so does Freddie. "Would you like a beer?" Forever polite Harry asks.

"No, I'm driving tonight but I'll fetch one for my sister," he says stepping around the bar where Harry and Freddie have been leaning against for the past hour, "I'm starving though, do you mind if I order something Fred?"

"I have some pizza in the fridge man, help yourself." Fernando thanks him before nodding to the person standing behind Harry.

"This beer alright?" Harry turns around just in time to meet a pair of chocolate eyes staring at the guy behind the bar and nod in acceptance. "You already know Freddie and this is Harry," the curly guy is speechless, now up close she seems prettier than before and real. "Harry this is my sister Alma." She smiles in a sweet way that makes the pop star wonder if he's about to go into cardiac arrest.

"I saw you in the tube, Hampstead station guy!" Her voice was nothing like he had imagined, it was raspy and a hint of an accent he couldn't quite put his finger on was swimming through her words.

"That's me..." he admitted, the pink blush from his cheekbones migrating to his ears. Alma thought he looked adorable.

"Do you wanna dance?" She asked after a big gulp of her beer. All star by Smash Mouth just started playing, that was definitely not what Harry wanted to dance with her. Not that he had a secret plan to woo her with his moves, he wasn't the best dancer.

But he took her hand and let her lead the way to the unofficial dance floor, that on a regular day was the dining room. Oblivious to all the eyes focusing on them, Harry allowed himself to enjoy the unexpected turn of events, he had already wasted precious time not talking to this marvellous woman. Like Freddie said, he had to learn from his mistakes, instead of repeating them.

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